Patreon -- stormcrowproductions -- Currently writing Warborn -- Part 2 Painted Red followed by PArt 3 -- Hard Roads then Nocturne -- Book 6
JD started as a slam poet thirty years ago then front man of a band for a decade in Seattle followed by moving into film where he shot 16 short films, won numerous awards at festivals and wrote several feature film scripts he hopes to some day direct.
He has also dipped his toes into video game designs with a visual novel on Steam by the title A Crown of Thorns, a prequel to his multi-award nominated feature script Blade n Blood and making a living blessedly writing LitRPG novels. He has another 100 page game design in the vein of Mordheim called The Road to Blood, a turn based Squad Tactics RPG, even with DLCs planned some day he would like to produce.
He has written 14 books in the last three years in five different series and his latest series has been a best seller, Nocturne.
He continues to pursue creativity in multiple venues while Book 4 and 5 of Nocturne has emerged into the Cosmos. He has currently finished a new Novella LitRPG Series he will pen between Nocturne books called Warborn.
If you would like to support his aspirations and dreams, he has a patreon, stormcrowproductions or go to his website stormcrowproductions dot com
Coins in a sliver of silver
Poem by JD Glasscock
She's destined for the scream like a horror flick playing in a dream... And his pockets are empty.. Got rolled in a back alley hoping for a taste...a melancholy tune strumming chords on the threaded strings of a beat up violin aged in
kisses..
She said his name once..in a fever... sweat carving pictographs to a black and white noir frame...a dial up of a vision on a phone with no tone...
They say in the soft segues between tomorrow and yesterday... you can hear their whispers.. you can hear their goodbyes... It all happened on a Tuesday... that forgotten slip between a touch and a punch.. on the cusp of a promise .
What are words but breaths held against the memory of today and the spot between her neck and lips.. between her breasts and her womb...
That man is still there.. in the midnight.. knuckle crawling silver holding a last wish between teeth
Devils in transitional moments of beauty
Poem JD Glasscock
The devil's in the details, high speed rails, broken down trails that we call life, so finger spit the chamber, play Russian roulette with tourettes,a shaky hand and starry eyes, one last goodbye... Flipping deuces when you need aces, hoping for a joker to crash the gin straight up into a bent cup.... Roll the bones, slitted eyes or a prayer for sevens on the back of a hooker's thighs... Silver coin spinning across knuckles, flipped into the cavernous gape that is fate... Slip step into the ethereal and a jaunt to the ever ever... Forever is a long fucking time..,.. She sighed into the drop that was the maw of articulation and we were two rickety boats sailing the turbulent afterimages of dream... Had a certain sheen when seen in shitty light and no hope..... Rope a dope and we calling the whole sha bang bang.... The old tunes the crevice of her prayer hung in the night was something to behold, truth be told.... And we wove threads through the silence of the dead and hummed melodies that memory etched into remembrance and we would see each other on the other side of a dawn that would never see the crack ass of tomorrow.... Stars are the strings of my guitar and I got a hankering to play... Stay and we will say hello to the fuckery of ages.... Rages dwindling into whimpers.... My hand slaps the silly of generations and the tick tock of clocks crumble beneath an ocean of regret..... The sun has set... It was a doozy of a ride... Shine shine... Beauty was always your friend
